


Drugs Are Bad For You

by jscribbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Abuse, F/M, Lucifer - Freeform, Non-con/dub-con, Vomiting, crying!castiel, implied dean/cas, mental patient!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 02:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/388792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscribbles/pseuds/jscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to remember and then he just really wants to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drugs Are Bad For You

**Author's Note:**

> I owe Castiel a huge hug after this one. So does Dean. Anyway, I love Cas/Meg, and I love loopy Lucy. But I feel like it's important to say that I really have an appreciation for Cas/Daphne. Everyone's shooting them down but I think she was really good to our Cassie. She took care of him and loved him and protected him... Let's give the lady a high five and include her in some fic! Lemme know how I did in that respect. Love me some Daph.

Castiel didn‘t know what changed between them.

One minute he hated her, he pushed her away, snapped at her, and ignored her when she spoke to him. In turn, she snarked, and jeered. She mocked him and didn’t seem to do anything past her appointed duties given by Dean. She only performed her caretaking duties with a smile and a soft tone when hospital management was in the same room. He tolerated her only because she was the liaison between himself and Dean. She brought him to the phone, she arranged the call times. If she wasn’t put here by Dean himself but instead of her own accord, whether it be with malicious intent or not, he would have smote her the first time she’d walked into his room in those pale purple scrubs, neatly pulled back hair, and with that shit-eating grin on her ugly, demonic face.

It changed after he locked her out of the room. Perhaps he’d been angry because Dean had stopped calling. She didn’t arrange any more call times. All she did was mock him and then humiliate him with her sharp tongue when he was drugged and unable to respond properly. He hadn’t seen the use of her anymore. The half-hour before he’d locked her out, she’d delivered his drugs. He’d taken them, watching her coldly over the rim of his glass as he swallowed the tablets, and then closed the door behind her with a flick of his hand, sliding the lock shut.

He lay down on his bed, rolling over so that his back faced the door. He listened to her rage and bang on the door, and he listened to her stop, knowing she was standing behind the magically locked door, considering her options. Then he heard the soft pitter-patter of her shoes as she walked away, disappearing down the hall.

The drugs kicked in. Despite being an angel, he was still very fallen. He needed to eat, to sleep. Occasionally. Drugs altered his mental state. They didn’t make Lucifer go away, but they did make his torment seem less bothersome. He could tune him out with more ease. Even the singing didn’t bother him anymore.

But he hated the drugs. He hated not being in control of himself. He hated numbing Lucifer. He deserved every snipe, every jeer, every mocking line thrown at him. He deserved the singing and the hallucinations. It was unfair to numb them. He had taken Sam’s burden for a reason - because he deserved it. He deserved to suffer for his sins.

So that’s when he’d suddenly found himself bent over the plastic trashcan in the corner of his room with his finger down his throat and his stomach pushing vomit up his throat, filling his mouth, and pouring past his lips into the bottom of the basin. He panted, listening to Lucifer laugh and laugh and laugh and --

He braced himself against the wall with one hand and pressed the tip of his finger against the back of his throat again, forcing himself to vomit again. It was more difficult the next time, his stomach squeezed harder and the heaving was more painful. For a minute after, he sat shaking and sweating, still bent over the bin, staring into the sick mess through blurry eyes. All he felt was despair. Cas squeezed his eyes shut and tears tumbled down his face silently.

Hands, softer than Lucifer’s hard, rough touch, wrapped around his forearm and tugged him. Castiel turned in fright, jumping and inhaling shakily. Meg was kneeled beside him, staring into his face with her eyebrows furrowed and a frown tugging down on her lips.

“What the fuck are you doing?” She whispered. Something was different, though. For the first time, there was no malice.

Castiel tried to respond but all that came out was a sob, a noise that brought blood rushing to his cheeks. Humiliation, he realised. Shame. Pain. Fear.

“Cas,” She whispered. With her palm, she swiped his cheeks, pushing tears aside and into his hair line. He shook and shut his eyes. Something about the nickname was wrong coming from her lips, but it reminded him of Dean, of Sam, of the back of the Impala, and of a dirty, bloodied trench coat. It was beer and whiskey and motel mould. It was car grease and hamburgers.

She pushed his hair back, running her fingers through it. Despite his foul tasting mouth, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He was shocked and sick, but he pressed back, his mouth bruising. She tasted like sulphur and rot, and he tasted like drugs and vomit. It was disgusting, but so were they. A filthy fallen angel and a blackened putrid soul.

He didn’t know what he was doing, but she did. Whatever happened between the floor and the bed was a blur, because the next thing he knew, he was on his back on his bed, Meg’s mouth was around his cock and he was still in tears.

In the back of his mind, Lucifer whispered horrible, twisted things. _“I taught her how to do that. Dirty slut loved sucking my cock in hell. I would flay off her skin then fuck her. Her favourite was when I’d snap off her jaw and then fuck her throat…”_

Castiel gagged when Lucifer said these things, but Meg would softly ‘shhh’ him and kiss his forehead, running her fingers through his hair.

_“Well, that’s new. I definitely didn’t teach her that one.”_

How typical. Of course Lucifer would find new ways of torturing him. Now he settled within the mind and tortured him from inside…

She kissed him again and Castiel responded desperately, burying fingers in her hair and groping clumsily at her. He remembered these motions with Daphne. Clumsy. Always in the morning, on their bed, in the sunlight. They never got far though, never all the way. She never called him ‘Cas‘. She never knew Cas. Not that he did either at the time. Still, somehow, deep inside, it had mattered to him. He hadn’t known what it was. But it had mattered.

Meg was gentle. It was surprising. But Cas wouldn’t be able to take force. He was tired of being forced.

But something was wrong, something was off. He knew he was drugged and something always felt off that way but... he felt too all right, too taken care of. He --

Her hand wrapped around his wrist and urged his hands under the waist band of her scrubs, of her panties -- lace, probably black. He found her wet, he found her wanting. His fingers pressed, rubbed. Her dark brown curls bounced as the tossed her head back and rocked against him, her finger tips never leaving his face. He remembered Daphne, doing this with her, letting her teach him things. But this wasn’t Daphne. This was heavier, softer, curvier. It was a cruel deception.

His fingers slipped inside the woman -- Meg -- the demon. The moan that passed her lips was dark, and deep, and beautiful. Castiel could have wept.

He kept his eyes closed, but he could almost picture Lucifer kneeling beside him. The voice was so close, he could have sworn he was perched right by his ear, in the same stupid crouch he always was in, like a bird. A bird of prey. He heard the dark chuckling.

_“What is with you and sloppy seconds? First Anna’s sloppy seconds, then mine? You don’t know where she’s been, Castiel. This is just unsanitary.”_

Cas slipped a second finger into her, gasping when a now-warm hand rubbed against his cock through his pants, stroking and pressing. Warm lips kissed his face, his neck, his eyes, his forehead. She pressed her lips against his temple, humming and moaning against his sweat-slicked skin.

_“Eugh. She smells bad. Like sulphur. Doesn’t that bother you? Or the idea of Hell almost seem pleasant right now?”_

Again, time seemed to speed up. When he blinked his eyes open, she was riding him, her skin bare and blue in the moonlight, her back to him, dark curls bouncing up and down her back.

_“Probably for the best that she‘s turned around. Even for me, I found her true face butt-ugly. You don’t seem to mind though, Cassie. Though I think it’s well and fair for us both to admit your standards have dropped drastically as of late.”_

Again, he closed his eyes and when he came to, he was suddenly on top of her, pressing his face into her neck and pushing inside her wet, tight heat. They were still wearing clothes, their pants pulled down around their ankles, her shirt pushed up by her neck, her small, pale breasts bouncing as they rocked against each other. Cas swept down to capture a nipple with his mouth, shaking. From the drugs. From the nerves. From the shame.

He played with the hard bud in his mouth. Swirl your tongue, he remembered. Daphne’s soft chuckling echoed in his mind. Use your tongue, he heard her say. He felt his wife’s thin, delicate hands on his face and scratch his scalp playfully. For the briefest of moments, he remembered her vividly. The smell of sulphur was for a moment the smell of laundry from their bed and Daphne’s citrus body lotion. The tickling of Meg’s hair was Simon’s fur that shed everywhere. Simon had been their golden retriever. They’d only had him for a month before --

_”Are you really thinking about your dog right now? You are a sick, sick man.”_

Meg was on top again, this time facing him, leaning over and kissing his lips. She was shaking and gasping, her voice high for once, her fingernails digging into his shoulder as she came. He’d imagined getting this far with Daphne. But he’d also wanted to take things slow, get a hold of his life, try to remember --

“Say my name. Cas, say it.” Meg pleaded.

Castiel struggled. He felt the heat in his body rise, felt his orgasm coming. “D--”

_“If you say ‘Dean’ I will make fun of you for it forever… Well, you know what I mean.”_

“ _Meg_ …” Castiel choked out as he came, his back arching and his orgasm hitting him powerfully. It made his head spin, his eyes close shut.

He opened his eyes and Meg was standing over him in the daylight shining through the window, shaking her head. Behind her, Lucifer was jumping gleefully, doing a dance that included more hip thrusting than was entirely necessary.

Meg was in a blue shirt and white scrub pants, her head still shaking. Castiel blinked, recoiling from the daylight. What the hell?

“That is just gross. I‘m sure if you had been allowed back in Heaven, you sure ain‘t going back now.” Meg said, a horrible little smile curled on her lips. She pointed at his hands, adding, “After the shit you pulled last night with your door-locking angel bullshit, if you think I’m cleaning that up, you have another thing coming, Clarence.”

Lucifer broke into a fit of giggles. “No pun intended.”

While Meg rolled her eyes at Castiel and turned away to set a tray down on his desk, from which Lucifer had to jump off of and reward her with a poked out tongue. Cas looked down at himself, feeling warm, stickiness all over his palm and a wetness between his legs. Horror and realization washed over him and he felt like vomiting.

Meg turned around, setting a glass of water on his bed table and a tiny dish tin of tablets. She raised her eyebrows at him and smirked, “But it was sure nice of you to think of me when you’re polishing the angel sword there, Clarence. You’ve gone and made me blush.”

Castiel rolled away from her, burying his face in the pillow, ignoring her snicker, Lucifer’s singing, and tried to bite down a scream.


End file.
